


Thirsty

by Skara_Brae



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 22:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5643790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skara_Brae/pseuds/Skara_Brae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake has a dalliance with the Dark Prince of K Street himself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirsty

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where this fic came from, but I am pretty sure it was triggered by the whole, "Wow, look who grew a pair. And all it took was a major international incident" exchange.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading =)

Blake pushed open the heavy wood door of Oscar’s and quickly scanned the interior. No faces he recognized, so he took a deep breath and walked inside.

He had never been here before, but he knew about this place. Of course he knew about this place. Every gay male resident of DC knew about Oscar’s, an upscale, more refined version of a gay bar, fit for Washington’s elite and discreet. No dance floor or loud pulsing music, or seedy back room. No, if the denizens of the nation’s capital wanted anonymous sex, they would have to screw each other senseless in theirs cars, or, more safely, in one of the nearby hotels.

The lighting was dim, the furnishings were dark, polished oak, the seats comfortable, and the drinks expensive. Blake found an empty seat at the bar. The bartender immediately appeared and Blake gave his order.

Once the alcohol was burning in his throat, Blake felt a bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders. It had been a hellish week. Another international crisis had spurned long nights full of tense negotiating and diplomatic squabbling. When the issue had finally been resolved with a few bruised egos but no literal black eyes, the Secretary had ordered everyone to take the weekend off.

Normally Blake would just go home and sleep, but he was wired from two days of living on black coffee, and he hadn’t had sex in a really long time.

He pressed the empty glass against his forehead and the bartender returned immediately and offered another. Blake accepted and gulped that one down as well.

“Looks like someone had a rough week,” a voice said right into his left ear.

Blake turned. The man who had appeared at his elbow was tall, with dark hair. Expensive suit, expensive watch, and a very expensive looking smile.

“My name’s Kent,” he said. Of course it was. “How about you let me buy your next drink?”

Blake smiled. “Why not?”

It didn’t take Blake long to determine a few things about Kent. First, he was a lawyer for the tobacco lobby, so morally bankrupt. Two, he was way too impressed with himself. And thirdly, it was possible he was the most boring person alive.

Blake was trying to keep his eyes from glazing over at Kent’s current anecdote, something about some clever remark that had them rolling in the aisles over at Phillip Morris, when he felt a hand clamp on his shoulder.

“Blake, good to see you.”

He turned in the direction of this unexpected salvation and discovered Mike Barnow. He blinked.

The Dark Prince of K Street himself. He had heard the rumors about Mike. His marriage had imploded under accusations of infidelity and scandal, but Barnow’s well-connected friends had managed to keep the major details under wraps. If Mike B.’s presence in Oscar’s was any indication of the level of trouble, they had done an excellent job.

“Mike,” Blake said, just barely keeping himself from adding the B to the end. “How are you?” He spared a glance downwards for Mike’s constant companion. “Gordon’s not with you? I’m shocked.”

Mike grinned at him. “Despite his dedication at the office, Gordon’s really more of a homebody. He’d love for you to visit though. I think he misses you.” He winked.

Blake laughed.

Kent cleared his throat, and they both turned to look at him.

The resulting stare down made Blake feel like a piece of meat being staked out by two hungry dogs.

It didn’t take long for Kent to back down. “I’ll… just be going,” he said, casting an injured glance at both of them.

“Have a nice night,” Mike responded pleasantly.

“Thanks for the drink,” Blake added a bit lamely.

Kent slunk off to the back of the bar.

“That was impressive,” Blake said to Mike. “I can see why half of Capitol Hill trembles at your name.

“More than half.” Mike shrugged. “It was clear you weren’t that into him. Thought you could use an excuse.” He sipped his drink.

“So that was a public service.”

“Call it a favor. I always do favors for friend of my friends.”

Blake had no response for that. He cast around for something else to say.

“So what are you doing here?” he settled on finally.

“Same thing you are, I’d expected.” Mike smiled. “Getting a drink.”

“Right.” Blake looked away. “It’s been a long week.”

“And I bet you were very thirsty.”

Blake didn’t really have any idea where this conversation meant, or where it was going, but for some reason, he didn’t want it to end. He swallowed the rest of his drink. Was it his third? “Very thirsty.”

“Let me get your next one.” Mike waved to the bartender, who appeared before them instantly. “Let me guess what you are drinking… Brazilian rum?” He smiled.

Blake groaned. It didn’t surprise him Mike knew the classified details of their latest South American scandal. “Icelandic vodka. As far from Brazil as you can get. In fact, I don’t even want to hear the word… for at least a month.”

Mike laughed, and new drinks appeared before them. Blake resolved to sip his this time. For the next half hour, their conversation turn general – the usual D.C. gossip, rumors, and blather... Blake let the last bit of his drink warm in the glass just to draw the conversation out.

“Still thirsty?” Mike looked at his glass.

Blake picked it up and drained the rest.

Mike leaned forward into his space. “You want to get out of here?” The invitation was clear.

Blake set down his empty glass, and met Mike’s eyes. “Yeah, I think I do.”

*^*

It didn’t surprise Blake at all that Mike lived in a historic townhome in downtown Alexandria. As Mike pushed him through the front door, Blake took in the crown molding and the gleaming hardwoods while rolling his eyes.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks. I like it.” Mike leaned in and kissed him. “Upstairs is even nicer.”

Blake laughed. “I bet.”

Their journey upstairs was temporarily thwarted by the appearance of Gordon, who had come to investigate just who his master had brought home. Since Blake was a known entity and pre-approved, this process was short, and Gordon happily trotted back to wherever it was he had come from.

“Upstairs,” Mike said again.

The interlude with Gordon had reminded Blake of the office and drove home the implication of what he was about to do. Did he really want to do this? This couldn’t just be the random hook-up that he desperately needed. They would see each other again. In the office. It would be… awkward. His steps faltered on the stairs. Mike grabbed his hand and towed him the rest of the way up them and into a bedroom that was as elegant and appointed as the rest of the house.

It was too late to back out now… wasn’t it? The alcohol was churning in his gut. This was a bad decision.

“God, I can hear you thinking. Doubting. Isn’t it exhausting?”

Blake scoffed and closed his eyes. “I—I don’t… It’s just…”

Mike had dragged in front of a massive bed, neatly made up with white sheets and a duvet. “Do me a favor, Blake? Shoes off, just stop thinking and … relax.”

A hand on his chest and Blake toppled onto the bed like a felled tree. He closed his eyes.

He felt a tug on his belt and then a warm, wet heat enveloped his cock.

“Ohhhh…” Blake’s head arched back on the pillow. It had been so long since anyone had done this for him. So long since he had felt someone else’s hands on his skin. He allowed himself to be swept away by the sensations radiating through him. A stray though passed through his mind and he had to clamp down on the ridiculous urge to laugh. One of the most feared men on Capitol Hill had his mouth on Blake’s cock. It was almost funny.

But then Mike moved and took him deeper into his throat and all thoughts fled from his mind. Mike clearly was an expert at this, and the satisfied noises he was making told Blake he was enjoying himself as well. It was so easy to tell when guys actually liked what they were doing versus when they only were doing it to get blown in return. Blake dug his heels into the soft mattress and let himself feel.

Warm, wet and in too short a time, Blake was going to embarrass himself by coming like a teenager. “Oh god… I shit...” Blake tried to pull away, but Mike clamped his hands onto his hips and held him down, pulled off and bit down on his hipbone and Blake was coming.

“You’re so freaking hot when you come. Do you know that? Nice to see you finally let go.”

Blake groaned again, heat flooding his cheeks. Somehow the thought that Mike had been watching him while he came made everything feel more intimate. Mike leaned over and kissed him again, wet and messy. They stayed like that for a long time before Mike pulled back. He tugged Blake’s pants and boxers down off his legs. “Turn over,” Mike ordered, and he began fumbling in a drawer in the bedside table. “And take off your shirt.”

Blake opened his eyes. He thought about protesting. One blow job didn’t entitle anyone to that. He never fucked on a first date. Then he quietly laughed to himself. Who was he kidding? This wasn’t a date. It was just a hook up, albeit with one of Washington’s power movers. Anyway, it wasn’t like he could leave now and ever look the man in the eye again.

He sat up and pulled off his shirt, then maneuvered himself up onto his hands and knees. He felt Mike move behind him, felt the heat of the man’s thighs against the back of his legs. Hands on his hips, then a hand trailing down …

Blake fought a wince as he felt one of Mike’s fingers press inside of him. The lube was cold and messy. He had never liked this part, never enjoyed it. It was an awkward but necessary prelude to getting fucked.

But with Mike, it was different. Mike distracted him with a steady stream of dirty talk – how he felt, hot and tight, and how much Mike was enjoying doing this to him, seeing him open up, seeing him on his knees, ready for his cock.

“I’ve always wondered what you would be like when you finally let go…”

Blake moaned. His entire body was tingling with the sensations of what Mike was doing to him. He could feel it from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes.

“God, I’d like to tie you to my headboard and do this to you all night.”

Blake groaned, mainly to cover the full body shiver caused by Mike’s words. He had a feeling Mike caught it anyway.

“Don’t you get off enough torturing people at work?” Blake’s voice was rough. “Don’t tell me you need to torture them during sex too.”

Mike laughed. “I tell people things they don’t want to hear at work. In bed, I get great pleasure in giving them exactly what they want. Trust me, I am going to give you exactly what you need.”

Blake ducked his head, and submitted for a few more minutes. “I’m ready.” He was. Amazingly, after just coming his brains out a few minutes before, his cock was stirring. He was getting hard again.

“Not yet.” Mike’s hand moved slower and pushed deeper. “Just a little longer.”

“Torture,” Blake muttered into the pillow.

Finally, Mike pulled his fingers away. Blake shivered as he felt Mike replace them with his cock. Mike teased him, rubbing the blunt tip against his entrance as if asking for permission.

“Come on,” Blake pleaded.

Mike pushed into him slowly. Blake’s toes curled, his hands fisting into the pillow. “Yeah, come on.”

Mike’s hands gripped his hips and he pushed in harder, bottoming out. Blake closed his eyes and let the sensations wash over him. Yes, this was what he needed, what he had been looking for from the moment he stepped into that bar tonight. They moved together, hot and hard.

Mike slid a hand up his back and gripped his shoulder, driving himself into Blake with a bruising force.

“Harder,” Blake ordered. His cock was harder again, his balls drawing up tight.

“Oh, baby. I’ll give it to you harder.” Mike did. Blake knew he would be feeling this for days. He bit down on his lip, trying to stave off his second orgasm.

“Trying to outlast me, baby? Mike wrapped his arm around Blake’s torso and, then lowered his hand to his cock. He stroked it in time with his thrusts. “Let go for me. I want to feel you come on my cock.”

“Oh, fuck,” Blake gasped and came all over Mike’s hand. He collapsed down onto the bed. He felt Mike thrust into him again, and again, until finally he stilled, and bit down hard on Blake’s shoulder.

Blake groaned and Mike pulled out of him, and then slumped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

*^*

Blake woke up tangled in the sheets. They were high end comfortable sheets, but still, it was not the best way to wake up. He squirmed and twisted. When he peeled his eyes open, he realized there was a wet nose just inches from his. Blake reeled back, and there was a soft chuckle from the other side of the bed.

Blake steeled himself before he looked over. Mike looked disturbingly fresh and awake. He sipped from a white mug as he read something on a large tablet.

“Gordon’s been waiting patiently.” He nodded at the dog, and Gordon leaped up on the bed and settled himself happily at their feet. “I put your coffee on the nightstand.” Mike nodded towards Blake’s left. Blake followed his gaze and found a white ceramic cup sitting on the nightstand.

Blake grabbed it and gulped down the hot, sustaining liquid. Even in his parched state, he could tell it was excellent coffee. When the cup was empty, Blake was feeling a bit more human. He collapsed back onto the pillows, and pressed his hands against his forehead.

“You also probably need a shower,” Mike said. It was impossible not to note the touch of amusement in his voice. “When you’re ready, the bathroom’s through there.”

Blake figured this was a hint. He had clearly outstayed his welcome. He had no idea where his clothes were, so he gathered the sheet around him as he slunk off to the bathroom. While the shower warmed, he stared at the bite mark on his shoulder in the bathroom mirror.

The shower was as expensive and luxurious as the rest of the house. He lingered under the dual shower heads longer than he should have. He was about to turned off the water and get out when the door opened and Mike stepped inside with him. Their mouths collided, exchanging the warm taste of French roast.

“God,” Mike muttered. “Just thinking about you naked in my shower was driving me crazy.” He pushed into Blake’s soapy body. “Why the hell are you so tall… Jesus. It makes this so much more complicated.”

They reached a precarious compromise, Blake slouching a bit, while Mike propped one foot up on the shower seat, but they managed to get their cocks sliding together. Soapy hands pumping together, and it wasn’t long before they were coming together, Mike’s face pressed into Blake’s neck, Blake’s hand gripping Mike’s waist.

The water washed the soap and come down the drain. Blake slumped against the tiles, exhausted. Mike, on the other hand, seemed invigorated. He shut off the water, stepped outside and tossed Blake a towel.

“That was great,” he said cheerfully. “Now how about breakfast? I make a mean omelet.”

He wrapped a towel around his waist, and padded out of the bathroom whistling. Blake buried his face in the towel. Somehow, this suddenly seemed a lot more complicated.


End file.
